


Shock

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-02
Updated: 2013-04-02
Packaged: 2017-12-07 06:49:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/745549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock always believed he’d die young.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shock

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m3p0ml42be1qcdh68o1_500.png) picture.

Sherlock always believed he’d die young. He had no delusions of living a long life, dying a natural death. That was to be expected in his chosen line of work.   
One day, he simply would be too slow. Trapped. Outnumbered. Maybe, if he was lucky, outsmarted (though he doubted that).   
All that has been clear to him since he took his very first case.

What he did not expect was John Watson. Doctor John Hamish Watson, ex-army doctor, who could have walked away from the beginning, after a week, after the three years Sherlock had to disappear. Except he didn’t. He didn’t. If Sherlock hadn’t known John’s motivators to stay with him - at first curiosity, the need for thrills, then loyalty, and later love, love, love, so much _love_ \- he would have thought him deranged. Willingly shortening his own lifespan, diving head-first into danger, beside an ex-drug addict, staying with a self-appointed sociopath, seeing Sherlock’s flaws and still not be scared away… a fool. Only a fool would make mistakes like that.

It was a few months after Sherlock returned from his exile after the Reichenbach disaster. John had stammered, shouted, cried, punched him, hugged him, kissed him.   
And Sherlock, after endless nights and infinite days of hurting, felt whole again.

He should have stayed away.

They had started taking cases again. John wasn’t even supposed to be in on this one, he had an appointment with some friends from St. Bart’s, just going out for a couple of pints. Sherlock had declined when offered an invitation, he was, after all, on a case.

But the suspect he was chasing turned out to be more of a nuisance than expected. How bothersome. Not stopping in his run, Sherlock whipped out his mobile and sent John a short text, informing him of his whereabouts, and where he should cut off the way for the fleeing criminal.

And like always, John heeded his call. Cutting off the delinquents way. Just like planned. What was not planned, however, was that the criminal pulled out a gun. Pulled out a gun, wasted no time with threatening gestures or a demand to let him through, and emptied his magazine. He fired once, twice, again and again, and someone was screaming, it could have been Sherlock, or John, or the _murderer_ , and John dropped to the ground and didn’t move, didn’t jump up to charge after the now again fleeing man, didn’t move at all.

The ambulance and police, called by a concerned neighbour after hearing multiple shots, found Sherlock kneeling in a puddle of blood, shaking hands pressed to the body of his deceased partner, trying (uselessly) to stop the bleeding. Sherlock Holmes. Resourceful. Dynamic. Enigmatic. Late. Too late.

Shock. You’re in shock, the paramedics told him, draping an aweful looking, scrachty orange blanket over him. He did not shake it off, staring at the blood-stained ground instead.

Turns out, he did not have his heart ‘burned out’, after all. A simple bullet had done the job just as well.

 

The End.


End file.
